The Headmen vs The World! FOR SCIENCE!
by EddieHollister
Summary: RationalFic. Can these complex schemers and manipulators organize a second attempt, or will other world-conquerors such as HYDRA, AIM, THE YELLOW CLAW beat them to it? They can do it, FOR SCIENCE! The Headmen, Terry Vance, Sons of the Serpent, Silver Dagger, several Doombots, The Gremlin, Ultron, Nick Fury LMDs, The Wizard , the Intelligentsia, Baron Mordo and a lot of others.
1. Chapter 1

The Headmen vs. The World!

The Headmen once fought The Defenders as a part of their scheme to take over the world with little violence, behind the scenes, as powers behind all the thrones of the Earth. They failed, but they failed spectacularly! Can these complex schemers and manipulators organize a second attempt, or will other world-conquerors such as HYDRA, AIM, THE YELLOW CLAW and ZODIAC beat them to it? And if those are your choices, you'd better hope The Headmen conquer Earth first!

Authors note this takes place roughly 3 years before the events of POWER MAN AND IRON FIST #111 (1984), and the events of my WHO IS CAPTAIN HERO? Fan-fic and a few months after THE DEFENDERS ANNUAL #1(1976) Hey, comic book time gets confusing.

Thursday Rubinstein was a woman in her early thirties, a brilliant doctor, researcher in cognitive studies and one of the early innovators in nanotechnology. She was dressed fashionably, showing off her figure flatteringly as she shopped the Park Avenue stores in the crisp Fall air. It was three days until Halloween, he favorite holiday. Ever since her successful experiment in copying her brain into a nano-plastic malleable computer, she didn't think of herself as having a real face. Just a series of masks that her normally red, spherical head could reshape itself into. A head composed of nanotech had made her virtually immortal, being a human chameleon was just one of the additional advantages.

She looked at her reflection in the window of a jewelry shop. Today she wore a classic face, Grace Kelly as she looked in VERTIGO. An old time star, with a classy style. She rarely wore her original face. Her own head had betrayed her, developing brain tumors that had forced her to try such a radical experiment in the first place, assisted by the surgeon Arthur Nagan. Thursday had nothing but contempt for her original brain, skull and face for being so disloyal as to try and kill her with cancer.

She reflected on the irony that she was the public face of The Headmen to their various investors, backers and those among the rich and powerful they had influence over. Harvey Schlemerman, better known as "Chondu the Magician" in his days as a carnival magician and yoga teacher could occasionally be trusted with diplomatic missions. But his most useful talents were in mind-reading and hypnosis, not in negotiation. He was better suited for dealing with their less trustworthy contacts; spies, assassins, burglars, bankers and salesmen. He couldn't be fooled, and if things went poorly he could erase and change memories until they went as he wanted. Magic was real, and it was very helpful, Ruby thought. It was a shame she didn't have the knack for it.

Ruby was ideal for dealing with the rulers of the world; billionaires, politicians, kings and dictators and those rapidly climbing to be in the power elite. A brilliant woman with a computerized mind that thought a thousand times faster than any mere human, with a thousand faces to hide behind. She had once been all three bidders on a weapon system contract for a third world dictatorship with no one the wiser. All it had taken was three different suits. She had even run for President once as a third party candidate in once false identity, had been famous worldwide for a brief time and no one had ever realized that it was Thursday Rubinstein waving into the cameras.

Her task for the day was to make a useful contact out of Hugh Jones, former President of Roxxon Energy Corporation. He had been forced out as top man of the multinational conglomerate years ago after a mental breakdown that followed a kidnapping. But he still controlled 35% of the company's stock, had a personal fortune of $3 billion and a lot of influence with some important people. Just the sort of person Ruby and her partners needed to put themselves back on the map.

One of their spies had provided Ruby with Jones's daily routine over the past few weeks. He had preferred lunch at a stylish restaurant named Roc's Roost at the top of the skyscraper housing his psychiatrist's office and had been going out of his way for it on days when he didn't have appointments. Crashing his meal was more dramatic than calling his social secretary for an appointment.

In the elevator to the top of the building for her planned negotiation, she checked her appearance in a compact mirror. She subtlety changed the shape of her nose and the color of her eyes to more closely resemble the last two mistresses Hugh Jones had been out with. Every little advantage helped, when laying out bait for a billionaire.

Harvey was in the lobby on the top floor as she stepped off the elevator. She waved at him with their personal hand gesture code to identify herself. She stood by the window looking at the skyline, as the magician stood beside her at a discrete distance, also viewing the city.

"You amaze me Ruby, if I couldn't read your mind I wouldn't know it was you."

"You did the ground work," she replied.

"I have telepathically programmed the wait staff to escort you right to his table. His bodyguard will go into a trance as soon as he hears you say "Good afternoon, Hugh, it's been ages." He won't see or hear a thing you two discuss and won't come out of it until five minutes after you leave."

"Harvey, you're a prince. Between the two of us, this can't fail. We'll have this fish caught and cooked in no time," she smiled as she turned to enter.

"Right this way, Ma'am!" the head waiter said as she entered. Harvey had worked his magic almost too well, the staff all stood at attention, some bowed and one waitress was trying to curtsy. She was escorted by the waiter to her target's table by the window with the best view of the East River. The United Nations building was just in view.

"Good afternoon, Hugh, it's been ages," she said, and the former British SAS soldier acting as Hugh Jones's bodyguard today suddenly slumped slightly in his chair at the next table, and continued eating with a vacant expression.

"Have we met?" Jones looked slightly confused.

"You may not remember me, it was at the Compagnie de Lux marketing meeting in Paris, a year before you left Roxxon? I was one of De Lux's public relations people running the event. Cassandra Daniels, I'm with ECOMCON now. You made a lot of money with your Compagnie de Lux investment, I'm hoping you can do twice as well with ECOMCON if you'd be interested?"

Compagnie de Lux had been the public front for The Headmen's last attempt to garner worldwide influence. Their leader, Dr. Arthur Nagan, posing as Dr. Ruhart Gnaan, had set up a Parisian advertising company called the Compagnie de Lux, and became involved in all aspects of society that he could, including agriculture, oil, computers, steel, food processing, population control, and automobile production. It had gone quite well, the four of them had parleyed their expertise in super-science and magic amazingly well, until they got carried away.

Nagan and Jerry Morgan had decided to try an experiment that would have solved the world's population problem, energy crisis and end all wars over scarce resources in one fell swoop, if it had worked. Years ago, Jerry Morgan had devised a shrinking gas that reduced the average human to half the size of a grain of rice. Nagan and Ruby had found a way to weaponize it, shrinking buildings and neighborhoods all at once, thousands of people reduced at a cost of pennies a person.

It had seemed brilliant and reasonable at the time. Not enough food or energy? Shrink billions of people down to ant size and there would be enough for everyone! Leave a few million normal-sized to work in the farms and so on, and humanity would flourish! The four Headmen would be proclaimed the saviors of humanity….

It didn't work. New Delhi had been shrunken as a field experiment. The White House with the American President and all his staff had been reduced. It was SUPPOSED to prove the viability of the concept. Compagnie de Lux had an advertising campaign ready that would sell the whole world on the idea, SHRINK AWAY YOUR PROBLEMS was the main ad slogan.

Brilliant experiment, great concept, ruined by Dr. Strange and his "Defenders." Defenders of what, she still wondered. Defenders of keeping the world starving, cold and miserable? OK, yes, the experimental test subjects hadn't been INFORMED they were going to be shrunk to the size of ants. They hadn't CONSENTED. And the whole world had almost gone to war when the White House was shrunk to the size of a shoebox… But it was FOR SCIENCE! If you're going to get carried away and lose your head over something, SCIENCE was a great cause for SCIENCE MARCHES ON!

And as it turned out, Compagnie de Lux was able to turn a hell of a profit even as The Headmen were on trial, their connection to the advertising company never becoming known. And as scientists the four of them knew, when an experiment looks promising, even as a failure, you redesign the experiment and begin again. Compagnie de Lux continued in Europe, refining their approach, with ECOMCON in North and South America. But ECOMCON needed cash, new connections to the rich and powerful, and that brought Ruby's thoughts back to Hugh Jones.

"Hugh, you tripled your money with Compagnie de Lux, and now that you're out at Roxxon I know you're looking for more challenges. You were a captain of industry, a legend in the energy business. You must be looking for new worlds to conquer, and working with us at ECONCOM will give you many worlds to conquer."

"I'm flattered with the sales pitch, Cassandra, right?" Ruby nodded at her alias and Jones continued. "But I'm what they call "WT." I'm Washed Tup. I had a nervous breakdown, IN PUBLIC after that kidnapping by the, what do you call them, Serpent Society. I got pushed out of Roxxon and paid off to go quietly. I'm content to spend money, do nothing but enjoy life, because no one will trust me to do anything more demanding that write checks. Can your company give me a way to get people to trust me with running a company again? Unless you're offering to give me one?"

"I'll be blunt Hugh. ECOMCON needs two billion dollars. That would be two thirds your personal fortune. But we have a lock on some scientists that have devised a version of the super-soldier formula. But not to make people into musclemen fighters. It resets the body to young adulthood, cures every disease there is a name for, and from the tests give a three hundred year life span. This isn't marketing, these are the lab results, I can show you as soon as we leave here."

"We aren't going to go to the market with this. It's the genuine fountain of youth cure for everything, and we're saving it for the best of the best, cream of the crop, pinnacle of the world's achievers. Your two billion will get us going, and your connections to the rest of the world's elite will get us more clients. As our FIRST client, you're going to be our proof it works, and you'll get a finder's fee for every new recruit to the ECOMCON community of investors."

Jones perked up. "I see where you're going. I'm betting this treatment of yours needs regular booster shots, treatments to keep it working as promised. Approach the 500 richest most powerful people in the world with this, rope them in, get their money and have them owing you favors for… well for 300 years or so if you're telling the truth. Am I close?" The ex-Roxxon head knew a good idea when he heard it, and this was pretty much what HE would do with a fountain of youth drug if Roxxon had been able to make one. "And," he continued," I'd get a cut in exchange for making it all happen."

Ruby smiled to herself. He was sharp, though he hadn't worked out all of Arthur's idea for the experiment. But she knew they had chosen well. Jones was the right mix of rich, ruthless and cunning to get the project started but not clever ENOUGH to spot all the ways that The Headmen could ensure his loyalty.

"I'm interested. Hell, I know it's POSSIBLE. At Roxxon we came up with some technology that was pretty earth shaking that we never brought to market for similar reasons. I get asked about our "water engine" all the time," he laughed. "Let me see proof it works, we can negotiate just how much of a cut I get, and it beats being retired!"

He reached out to shake Ruby's hand, as the plate glass windows around the penthouse resteraunt exploded in. Two dozen men in green commando uniforms swung in on ropes, presumably from the roof. Their machine guns sprayed bullets over the heads of the patrons as they dived for the floor.

"HAIL HYDRA!" the commandos shouted in unison.

One of them stepped forward. "Hugh Jones, you are now the prisoner of HYDRA! None of you interfere or you will be executed!"

"…you have to be kidding me…" Ruby muttered. She thought as quickly as her nanotech brain could; there was NO way to get out of this with Hugh Jones in tow. Harvey wasn't a good enough magician to take out two dozen armed men before one of them killed him with a lucky shot. Her nanotech head had some weaponry uses, but she had the same problem Harvey would. She was just outnumbered.

Along with the rest of the patrons, she sat on the floor, hands up, as the HYDRA commandos threw a bag over Jones's head, cuffed his hands behind his back, and threw him out the window into a HYDRA hovercar outside. The commandos followed, shooting several bursts of gunfire into the ceiling.

The hovercar flew off with a HUMMMMMMM….

Silence as the crowd sat in shock. Then the silence was broken.

#$ &amp;%*! Ruby swore.

"#$ &amp;%*-ing HYDRA! #$ &amp;%*-ing AIM, #$ &amp;%*-ing Doctor #$ &amp;%*-ing DOOM! I am SO SICK OF THIS #$ &amp;%*-ing ✴#!

She swore then and there as she was swearing. All these OTHER ✴#-head so-called world conquerors were going to eat a mountain of ✴# before she was through with them.

How was a scientist supposed to work with THIS ✴# going on all the time?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

Harvey Schlemerman sat at the bar in the Roc's Roost, watching Ruby Thursday do her part in recruiting Hugh Jones to the cause. He sipped an Irish Coffee and scanned the room for any strong emotions anyone was having that might mean trouble. As often happened when he was doing this sort of multi-tasking, he thought about how his life had gone right and wrong over the years.

As a young man in Rhode Island years ago, he had expected nothing more out of life than to take over his father's bookkeeping business when the old man retired. But then he had met a young woman into yoga, meditation and all things mystical and he'd wanted to impress her. He began studying what she was interested in just to have a reason to talk to her, and then found he had a knack for using his mind in surprising ways.

He'd quit the family business, and developed a mindreading and fortunetelling act for a traveling carnival to give himself freedom to learn all he could about magic, mysticism and the hidden power of the mind. He often remembered that as the most fun he'd had in his life. First as Harvey the Amazing, then more successfully as "Chondu the Magician," made up to look slightly less Jewish and more of the "Mystic East.".

Years on the road, performing, studying and practicing what magic he had learned. Looking into the minds of decent people, giving them helpful hints using whatever he could glimpse of their futures. Sending frightening haunting visions into the minds of those with guilty consciences. Lecturing on yoga and performing stage magic with just enough real sorcery to widen the experiences of ordinary people. It was fun. Moreover, it left him wanting to REALLY show people how much potential the average mind had, if you REALLY learned to use it.

Then he had met Nagan and Morgan, and gotten pulled into their plans. It wasn't FUN exactly, but it had been… interesting. Changing a few lives at random was fun, but planning on MASSIVE changes was a true great work to attempt

Ruby's thoughts tended to be too fast for Harvey to read easily. She wasn't technically human anymore and her mind ran far faster than any other he had ever encountered. But Jones was easy to read, all greed and ambition and a hunger for power. The patrons around them were all in their own little worlds.

He also scanned the room for eavesdroppers, spies, and security risks. But once a meddler in the lives of others, ALWAYS a meddler.

One couple in the corner were there having lunch after cheating on their spouses. For old time's sake, Harvey found the old buried memories of why they had originally loved their spouses and cranked them up to maximum. Later on, perhaps at least one of them would try to salvage their marriage.

A teenage girl eating with her family was anxiously tuning out their sniping at each other, wishing she had the courage to do something, ANYTHING to get them all to shut up and at least ACT like they got along. Harvey murmured a quick enchantment to give the girl recurring dreams with the theme "life does get easier when you leave home and go to college." Seeing that she loved music but was being pressured to become a lawyer like her mother, he decided to add a "don't do what your parents want, do what makes you happy" theme to the dreams as well.

Cheering up a depressed teen AND sparing the world another lawyer. That should count as two good deeds for the day…

Suddenly his ears picked up the crashing of glass and the firing of automatic weaponry, as his telepathic senses were flooded with the panic of the patrons and the anger and violent intent of those swinging into the penthouse from above. He recognized the green coveralls and cowls of HYDRA.

A quick count. Twenty four foot soldiers, one officer. Harvey was a mind reader, a hypnotist, a spell caster but honestly not in the "big leagues." When he tried to mind control or stun more than three people at once, he got blinding migraines and tended to faint. He was pretty sure Ruby couldn't handle the remaining 22 soldiers on her own.

Merely snapping one's fingers and having an army of elementals or demons APPEAR wasn't as easy as people assumed. But what Harvey wouldn't give for some golems right now. Or even a few imps.

"Maybe we're lucky and they aren't here for me or Ruby…" the thought.

The HYDRA soldier thinking the most "I'm in charge" thoughts in the bunch stepped forward. "Hugh Jones, you are now the prisoner of HYDRA! None of you interfere or you will be executed!"

"…. Of course." Harvey groaned to himself as he raised his hands in what looked like surrender but was actually preparing to cast "Dennak's Bolts of Bedevilment." Jones was expendable; all the Headman's PLANS were expendable. Just none of The Headmen were.

Harvey screwed up as much courage as he had, which wasn't much. They can take Jones, but if so much as a single gun barrel pointed at Ruby, he would have to act. Who knows, if he hit EVERY person he aimed at AND every single bullet missed him and Ruby AND all the rest of the HYDRA agents had heart conditions AND he could get that teleportation spell to work…

But fortunately all they wanted was Jones. Their easiest way to get billions of dollars in capital and dozens, HUNDREDS of useful pawns in the rich and famous set, and HYDRA took him right out of their grasp.

The HYDRA commandos threw a bag over Jones's head, cuffed his hands behind his back, and threw him out the window into a HYDRA hovercar outside. The commandos followed, shooting several bursts of gunfire into the ceiling.

The hovercar flew off with a HUMMMMMMM….

Silence as the crowd sat in shock. Then the silence was broken.

#$ &amp;%*! Ruby swore.

"#$ &amp;%*-ing HYDRA! #$ &amp;%*-ing AIM, #$ &amp;%*-ing Doctor #$ &amp;%*-ing DOOM! I am SO SICK OF THIS #$ &amp;%*-ing ✴#!

*RUBY, WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE…* Chondu the Magician sent to her telepathically. *WE WILL COME UP WITH ANOTHER PLAN, WE ALWAYS DO."

She nodded at the voice in her plastic nanotech mind, and ran over the still-cowering restaurant patrons, heading for the door as Harvey held it open for her.

"We need to come up with a plan to DESTROY anyone who messes with our plans," she grumbled as they ran for the express elevator.

"And a plan to have more firepower. More help on the overall goal for worldwide influence." Harvey agreed.

"How are we supposed to compete?" Ruby stomped her foot in irritation as she stepped onto the elevator, throwing the occupant out. "Don't get me wrong, I'm awesome. You're great. Arthur is a genius. Jerry is almost beyond belief. But come on. AIM, HYDRA, Zodiac, LEVIATHAN…"

"Dr. Doom, Red Skull, Mandarin, Golden Claw…" Harvey listed as the doors closed.

"Magneto, Apocalypse. Mole man, for crying out loud!" Ruby slapped the wall. "Who ISN'T trying to take over the world?"

"We all do get in each other's way. Should we consider some partnerships with any of them? I know Arthur is against it, but…" Harvey shrugged. "We could probably make more of an impact."

"NO. Most of the others are fascists, genocidal maniac power freaks. Nihilists, Nazis or control freaks. Working for them would be worse than giving up and going back to our OLD careers."

Harvey had liked his old career but he understood what she meant. Being a big fish in a small pond was all right for a while. But being the biggest fish in all the oceans was tempting, if you can find away.

As the elevator doors opened at the ground floor, Harvey Schlemerman stood up a bit straighter, and whispered dramatically, "I have an idea…"

"Speak up Harvey, I hate when you get all theatrical. I can never hear you."

"I SAID I HAVE AN IDEA!" he shouted as they ran out through the lobby. "I'll tell you when we meet the others tonight, I want to work out some details!"

Ruby took the first cab at the cab stand, Harvey took the second. She was curious what the magician had in mind. But she knew better than to ask a magician his secrets. Best to just wait and see the show.


	3. Chapter 3

The Headmen vs The World! FOR SCIENCE! Chapter three

The Headmen once fought The Defenders as a part of their scheme to take over the world with little violence, behind the scenes, as powers behind all the thrones of the Earth. They failed, but they failed SPECTACULARLY! Can these complex schemers and manipulators organize a second attempt, or will other world-conquerors such as HYDRA, AIM, THE YELLOW CLAW and ZODIAC beat them to it? And if those are your choices, you'd better hope The Headmen conquer Earth first!

Authors note this takes place roughly 3 years before the events of POWER MAN AND IRON FIST #111 (1984), and the events of my WHO IS CAPTAIN HERO? Fan-fic and a few months after THE DEFENDERS ANNUAL #1(1976) Hey, comic book time gets confusing.

For the time being, the Headmen and a few trusted assistants we operating out of a mansion in Southampton, Long Island. The beachfront property was owned by a rather well known real estate billionaire. Their patron used it as a "Summer House" every July and August and had offered it to the Headmen for the remaining ten months. As the four renegade geniuses had doubled their landlord's personal fortune in the past year with their advice, it was a very beneficial arrangement all around. Ruby had dealt with Kenneth Krask for some time , and in fact in a roundabout way Ruby owed his father, Kronin Krask a great deal.

Kronin Krask had created the Krask fortune two decades before, and was diagnosed with a fatal illness while still in his early forties. Deciding that being rich meant he didn't have to follow the rules, he set about to use science to cheat death. Hiring mercenaries, he kidnapped pioneering neurologist and cyberneticist Dr. Wagnastein and his protégé Dr. Jim North. Using their so called "ultra-oscilloscope" it was possible to copy and transfer the entire consciousness and brain patterns from one body to another permanently, in effect exchanging their brains without surgery. If Kronin had been content with ANY new body, he would have succeeded and would still be alive today in one body or another. (Thor #172

Unfortunately Kronin Krask had always been bigger than life and wanted to stay that way. His men managed to capture Thor, the God of Thunder and the attempt was made to elevate Kronin Krask to Godhood. As happens whenever one involves one of the Avengers in a scheme, the plan fell apart. Krask's sons inherited the family fortune, and several years later the Headmen began working as Kevin and Kenneth's private advisors.

Ruby cycled the malleable organic circuitry that composed her head and stored her consciousness through several favorite faces, deciding which to wear for the evening meeting with her companions. Kronin Krask had forced Wagnastein and North to perfect their mind-swapping technology, and she had based her own brain-copying machinery off of their work.

She entered the dining hall, wearing the face of Scarlett Johansen (a current favorite, and sat at the head of the table, nodding to the house servant indicating she was ready for wine and appetizers. She was thankful that Doctors Joel and Joshua Williams, inventors of the 1940s robot Flexo had devised the material that composed her head. She would have missed having a sense of taste, and the Williams brothers had found a substance that could mimic any sensory input as needed. (Mystic Comics #1)

Arthur Nagan was sitting at the far end of the table, picking at several large fruit platters and drinking periodically from a large tankard. Due to an accident with an automated head transplant surgical robot, an anti-rejection serum and several rebellious low land gorillas, Nagan's head had been affixed to the body of a 600 pound gorilla beringei graueri. Ruby and Arthur had worked out plans to move Arthur's mind into a clone of his original body years ago, but he still enjoyed the agility and strength that he had happened into. (Mystery Tales #21)

Jerry Morgan, one of the top biochemical researchers in the world before his own lab accident caused him to retire from public view, sat at the right side of Nagan, picking at his plate, He had created his cellular compression gas years before Hank Pym and his size-changing "Pym Particle" had come along. Due to an early accident, he had somehow managed to shrink his skeleton, muscles and internal organs to 5' 7" while keeping the outer skin of a man of 5'11". The sagging skin was frankly disturbing, and Ruby had offered several times to help Jerry even things out. "It reminds me to be more careful," was his usual reply. (World of Fantasy #11)

Last to arrive as usual, Chondu the Mystic, also known as Harvey Schlemerman, entered with a half-bow as though he was back on stage doing his magic act for carnival rubes. "May the stars align over us, and guide us to victory," he intoned. Once a showman, always a showman Ruby thought. "Helen, see if Michael has any of that lobster bisque left from last night please. He outdid himself with it, and if you can find a decent white wine, I'll ask the Vishanti to bless you eternally."

The maid hustled out of the room towards the kitchen, as Harvey leaned in towards his partners. "OK, today was a disappointment, we can all agree. Hugh Jones would have been a good recruit for the rich and famous. But look on the bright side, HYDRA kidnapped him before we invested more than a couple of days and the price of a few meals in the man. Who else might be a good candidate to sell Jerry's addictive youth potion?"

"Technically it's not addictive, it just needs continual booster shots," Jerry remarked, then sipping some wine. "I actually could add something I have in mind, to make the test subject feel very anxious after a certain time. I intended it to add to the secret sauce at the Burger Frog chain to boost return sales…"

"Interesting, does it have any side effects though? It wouldn't do to poison customers," Arthur interrupted. "If all the people who eat at Burger Frog suddenly developed kidney failure we would lose a good revenue stream and attract some attention."

Jerry shook his head, sending his loose skin into a disturbing sloshing motion. "Actually it started out as a cholesterol and triglyceride reducing drug that caused withdrawal symptoms when you stop taking it. It passes in a few days, just heightens anxiety and restlessness. It actually makes the menu at Burger Frog BETTER for you than most fast food. You just will find yourself conditioned to have at least one Ribbet-Riblet every three or four days. If I can fix the addictive issue, the same compound could legitimately earn us billions."

"Interesting ideas, Jerry. Move ahead on it as a food additive, let me take a look at the formula later. I may be able to help turn it into something that our pharmaceutical people can market. Now anyone have ideas for a replacement for Hugh Jones in our plan?"

Several members of the global rich and famous were discussed and discarded, until the right balance of fame, social connections and vulnerability to persuasion was settled upon. Discussions of various revenue streams followed, companies that were covertly owned or controlled by the Headmen, and useful sources of information within numerous governments and spy agencies. As dessert was being served, Ruby had found the right way to express her frustrations about the days events.

She stood suddenly, placed both hands on the table, and shouted.

"#% *&amp;%! #$ %#%$## #$$%$# #$$#%$# #$%#% $#$ $&amp;&amp;&amp;%&amp; &amp;$#%$##%&amp;&amp;&amp; &amp;!"

Her three partners sat stunned.

"We have been at this for years, and we make progress HERE but then get knocked back down THERE and I am SICK OF IT!"

Jerry Morgan was the first to work up the courage to reply. "What exactly is the…"

"$$%$# -ing HYDRA! And all the other lunitics out there trying to knock over the planet as if it was just another bank to rob! It puts our whole method of operations into jeopardy!"

Arthur was about to interrupt but saw a "hush" gesture from Harvey and held his tongue. After all, what was the point of having a psychic in the room if you ignored his advice?

"When I met you three, your plan was a good one. Use our knowledge to ally ourselves with the people who ALREADY run the world, solve the problems for them no one else could even IMAGINE a way to do it. We didn't want to sit on the Throne, we were going to be the people BEHIND the throne! We would have all the power and none of the responsibility! We could have really done it!"

Harvey reached across the table to refill his glass of wine and then Ruby's glass. "What do you feel we are doing wrong?"

"WE are the only ones doing anything RIGHT!" she fumed, banging on the table. "The idiots currently in charge of this crapsack world are too STUPID to follow our BEST PLANS… They just do enough of what we want to keep themselves propped up on the top of the heap! Jerry, you've had plans to address climate change, peak oil, air and ocean pollution for years, sitting on the shelf! Every time we try to implement them, what happens?"

Jerry nodded. "Roxxon sabotaged three different factories, Someone with better brainwashing technology than ours got the UN committee to come out AGAINST clean air and water…"

"EXACTLY! Harvey, your experiments to improve critical thinking and raise general intelligence across the board with education reform? It tested great in Finland, what happened when we tried to move it across five continents?"

"It went smoothly implementing it in China, Japan and Singapore, but we were blocked out from North and South America, every ally we needed turned out to be already owned securely by either HYDRA or that group we think the Kree are behind."

"Too many players in the field trying to knock over everything and WE are the ones trying to hold it all up and make it actually WORK better! But do WE get any help? NO! We get SHIELD, The Avengers, Dr. Strange and HIS buddies messing up what we do as well!"

"I think I hear what you are saying," Harvey said in his most soothing voice. "You feel the people we are supporting aren't cooperating enough. The enemies of the people we support are getting in the way of most of what we CAN do. And the enemies of our enemies are getting in our way too, SHIELD doesn't treat us any differently than they do HYDRA for example. Is that pretty much what you mean?"

"YES!" Ruby flopped back into her chair and reached for her wine glass. "We are four of the most intelligent people alive, and we have so many STUPID people interfering!"

"I understand. I feel the same. And it's not as if we are trying to make things WORSE…." Jerry Morgan stood to stretch, then paced back and forth across the dining room as he spoke. "I admit, we cut some corners. We have experimented on people without asking them first a few times. But we got the people who REALLY run things to agree to our big experiments first. It's not like we're Dr. Doom and his one man invasion of Planet Earth. We were practically doing official work!"

Arthur Nagan lit a cigar and roced back in his chair. "That's true. Our experiment in India and Washington DC ? When I was approached originally by that group from the United Nations, their idea was for us to devise a pandemic, to wipe out roughly %85 of the world population. If they hadn't come to us, someone else would have tried THAT stupid idea to solve the "too many people, not enough stuff" problem." (Defenders I annual #1)

Jerry stopped pacing and stood near the window. "My best work yet. I shrank the whole White House and everyone in it to the size of a dollhouse, to prove a government could function even if it was led by a half inch tall President. I found a way to shrink the ENTIRE POPULATION OF NEW DEHLI! TO THE SIZE OF ANTS! Let's see that patent thief Hank "Jackass" Pym try that one! World hunger? Gone! The population of Africa could be fed with a thousand acres of farmland and ten tractors!"

Harvey nodded. "You're right. It would have solved a lot of problems, and it was a lot better than what the idiots in charge originally planned. There is a very good chance if we hadn't taken that job, about 6 billion human beings could have died. But we don't get credit for that, and I know that bugs all of us. But what can we do about it?" Harvey, using his theatrical CHONDU THE MYSTIC voice to the best effect, commanded their full attention.

"We have a problem, and the four of us can't find a solution. But I have an idea. And if we all can polish the rough edges off of it, it's a pretty good one."

END OF CHAPTER THREE

I took time off from writing, to do 2 years' worth of grad school in just one year. I had no time to sleep much less write. If you're finding me again, sorry for the break. If you JUST found me, I'll update my OTHER story soon and try to keep to a chapter a week on both.

BTW all my stories are love letters to the Silver age/Bronze age of comics that I grew up with. Back when continuity mattered, characters developed, and everything was being CONstructed, not Deconstructed. I'm using the Marvel Sandbox World and continuity as it existed during SECRET WARS II and ignoring all the stuff from the Mutant Massacre on up. Thanks to the Marvel Appendix crew for helping me remember obscure details from the Marvel Universe as it was from Stan Lee up to the day Jim Shooter was pushed out the door.

Thanks also to THE FANTASTIC FOUR AS THE GREAT AMERICAN NOVEL for many inspirations.


	4. Chapter 4

The Headmen vs The World! FOR SCIENCE! Chapter four

The Headmen once fought The Defenders as a part of their scheme to take over the world with little violence, behind the scenes, as powers behind all the thrones of the Earth. They failed, but they failed SPECTACULARLY! Can these complex schemers and manipulators organize a second attempt, or will other world-conquerors such as HYDRA, AIM, THE YELLOW CLAW and ZODIAC beat them to it? And if those are your choices, you'd better hope The Headmen conquer Earth first!

Chondu the Mystic had been a lecturer and performer years ago, when he still thought humanity was naturally eager for learning self-improvement from a dedicated teacher. He still came across as somewhere between an overly enthusiastic science teacher and a Las Vegas magician when he wanted people to pay attention.

Arthur Nagan was impatient by nature. He had been even before the lab accident that had given him a human brain being constantly flooded with the hormones of a 600 pound gorilla. But as the nominal leader of their conspiracy, he knew when to let people be eccentric. He settled into the reinforced sofa, and pretended to give his full attention. Ruby and Jerry Morgan were making themselves comfortable as well, knowing that Chondu was going to make a long, detailed point.

"Friends, we are at a crossroads. We have several options ahead of us if we are to change our fortunes. I have a different perspective than the three of you. You are all deeply mired in the world of science and logic, while I am a scholar of the mystic arts, creativity, intuition…"

"Harvey, you're from Rhode Island, not the hidden temples of Tibet…" Ruby remarked.

"Yes, but I spent TIME in some of those temples, as well as learning in India and a few interesting years in Germany and Ireland. My POINT is that I've been looking at our problem from another angle than you three. When a group has a problem the group cannot solve, common sense is to pull more people into the group, to get more ideas to discuss, more points of view."

Jerry leaned forward, shaking his head. "We tried that, every time it was a disaster. Bentley Wittman the so-called "Wizard" tried to order us about like he was in charge. Elias Starr tried to steal from us! We wound up having to use my Oblivion serum to erase their memories."

"Even that mistake was beneficial though," Chondu replied. "As I recall the three of you stripped their various hidden labs bare of secrets, and THEY had stolen technology from too many sources to count. But that brings me to my point."

Chondu gestured in a quick motion and mumbled a few words, Ruby's enhanced hearing only made out the word "Icon." Suddenly their surroundings changed, they appeared to be in a dusty, slightly decrepit temple, with several monks in robes of red, orange and green, and aged from anywhere from eight to a thousand sitting on the floor chanting in a low murmur.

"I spent time in the city of Kamar-Taj in Tibet, trying to win a place as a student of The Ancient Ones. I watched how their priesthood worked. When they needed a new Holy Man, they didn't go out and LOOK for someone that fit the bill already trained. They would search out a few of the brightest children they could find, and train them from the ground up to be the Holy Man they needed. That way there was no power struggle, no fragile egos on the line, or nonsense to get in the way. If they needed an exorcist, they apprenticed one. If they needed a monster slayer, they took their time and trained one; they didn't just look for the toughest looking swordsman around."

"Friends, we need to recruit an apprentice. Someone under 12, a child prodigy. Already trained in some things, but a mind still open enough to be turned to our way of thinking. Fresh ideas, a fresh perspective, without all the annoyances of adding someone like that old Soviet, Ivan Kragoff to our group."

I took the liberty of researching some possible candidates. There is a student at Empire State University, he was admitted at 9 years old, he just turned 11. A nearly photographic memory, an impressive talent at robotics apparently. He is a teacher's assistant for Professor Marla Madison, an expert in "electro-biology," I assume one of you can tell me what that entails later. He has spent the past year focused on studying the work of Philo Zogolowski , and apparently has almost duplicated the World War Two era robot that was Zogolowski's crowning achievement."

Jerry Morgan looked thoughtful. "It sounds like this kid is a Master's degree and a lab accident away from being one of us already. And I see the sense in the idea. Who better to teach a young genius the ways of super science than us? And Chondu's knowledge of alchemy and my biochemistry has gotten us very impressive results. Cross training someone to combine Chondu's magic with Arthur's medical skills and Ruby's biotechnology could give us incredible breakthroughs. It could take a decade to pay off, but Rome wasn't conquered in a day."

Arthur nodded, and announced his decision which agreed with the general mood of the room. "It's a good idea, and worth pursuing. Chondu, think about finding a way to recruit him. Let's keep away from simply kidnapping him or brainwashing. The way our luck goes, that would attract attention. Maybe offer him a scholarship, a "genius grant," and use that to have him meet us in a location we can abandon if it doesn't work out. What's the point of being able to erase memories if we don't take a risk once in a while? What is this prodigy's name, Chondu?"

"Terry Vance," the magician answered. "They nicknamed him the boy with a hundred hobbies. Perhaps he can add super science and world conquest to his list."


	5. Chapter 5

TRANSCRIPT FROM PUBLIC LECTURE, GIVEN BY TERRANCE "TERRY" VANCE, ON THE CAMPUS OF EMPIRE STATE UNIVERSITY, ENGINEERING BUILDING LECTURE HALL C. ROUGHLY 40 PEOPLE IN ATTENDANCE, STUDENTS, FACULTY, STAFF AND NON-CAMPUS VISITORS.

DESCRIPTION THE SCREEN ON THE DIAS IS DOWN, INDICATING A POSSIBLE POWERPOINT OR VIDEO PRESENTATION. A CURTAIN COVERS A SIX FOOT AREA OF THE STAGE, THOUGH THE OUTLINE OF A TABLE COVERED WITH UNIDENTIFIABLE LARGE OBJECTS IS VAGUELY VISIBLE.

THE ADVERTISED TALK SUBJECT WAS " 1939-1940 : ROBOTICS AND AI BEGINS BY TERRY VANCE, T.A.

Transcript of recording, taken from speaker's microphone. Minimal audio from audience questions.

"OK people, looks like I may as well start. I see some faces I recognize, some I don't. After my talk, I usually do some question and answer, and make appointments for one on one talks if you're a student or a reporter.

"People are often mystified how we went from robotics in 1939 that were just crude marionettes and computers that went from glorified adding machines to expert systems and almost-artificial intelligence by the middle of World War Two. It is as if in the span of a few months, Orville and Wilber Wright had gone from being able to stay in the air for twelve seconds to a successful trip to the moon. We've all grown up hearing the modern myths trying to explain it. Depending whom you ask, you can be told it was time travelers from the future, or salvaged space ships from alien races. At least one professor here at ESU teaches a class on theories of lost civilizations of ancient humans and other races here on Earth, leaving behind advanced technology like we throw away soda cans and candy wrappers. Don't you believe it!

I have spent the past three years as a student and most of my free time reading the notebooks, diaries and blueprints left to ESU and to State University at Hegeman. The Library of Congress's collection of declassified records from the Strategic Scientific Reserve were also very helpful. I'm working on a textbook that will be out next Spring on the history of AI and Robotics. I'd like to prove once and for all that four men made all the breakthroughs on their own without aliens, time travelers or Atlantis. No one involved as a mutant either, they were homo sapiens sure enough. Some was through lucky guesses, trial and error, and a few very risky shortcuts. But mostly it was hard work, education and human levels of genius.

This is a picture of the Williams brothers, Joel and Joshua. Joel was a chemical engineer, Joshua was an electrical engineer. Both had worked for Thomas Edison in the late 1920s. Edison had taught them both to focus on finding products that consumer's didn't even realize they needed yet, and to give the world ways to live better and healthier lives.

Joshua was the one that decided that to make their mark, they should turn old myths like golems and fiction like the Tin Woodsman and find a way to turn it into a product to be sold. "Why risk human lives on dangerous jobs like working with explosives and toxic chemicals when an artificial human could do the work free of risk," he was quoted in one news article. "For that matter why risk the lives of firemen, policemen, miners or deep sea divers?" It was the classic reasoning behind mechanization, to free humanity from the worst manual labor so they would be free to do higher things. As always, the issue was how to make something that could do the work of a human cheaper than you could hire and train a human to do the same job?

Joel hit on the idea of a way to make an artificial human cheaper than a real one. "Life is a collection of cells working together for a common purpose," he told one reporter. "Using chemicals, I can duplicate collections of cells following a single purpose, and my brother's equipment can direct these cells in their work." Joel called his synthetic cells "living rubber" and the Williams brothers kept their formula for it a secret between them. Joshua devised a synthetic nervous system that responded to simple commands, though a radio remote control worn on the wrist.

The papers I have on Flexo's design aren't complete, so I can't show you how this next part worked. But that wrist devise we see Joel wearing tapped into Joel's nervous system to interface with Flexo's built in electronic brain. This simplified the programming of Flexo and reduced the demands for built in computing power. Whomever wore the wrist controller essentially controlled two bodies with one brain. As long as the human controller didn't attempt anything more demanding than a slow walk, the Flexo unit could carry out any action a human was capable of.

I have some news footage of their robot, called "Flexo, the Rubber Man" in the Williams Brothers attempts to raise funds. Flexo was used by the Williams Brothers to escape when a gang employed by a criminal scientist named Otto Murdo kidnapped them. They also used Flexo when Axis spies stole plans for a naval "torpedo repellor" they had designed and were giving to the War Department. When this didn't convince investors to help raise funds needed to mass produce Flexo units in the thousands, the Williams Brothers agreed to do work on the front lines against the Axis powers, using their prototype robot worker as a soldier. After some successes, the brothers were killed and their creation was destroyed in 1943 when their plane was shot down into the British Chanel. A brilliant idea, decades ahead of its time, wasted because they couldn't get the funding needed. An old story to anyone who knows the history of science and progress. After their deaths, some of their work was pieced together by others, working from published papers, some was handed around by industrial spies, investors and so on. But by showing what was POSSIBLE, they allowed many others down through the years to cobble together similar ideas into their own inventions. I have several chapters detailing the "family trees" of various robot designers of the past eight decades. A great many were inspired by Joel and Joshua Williams.

On to a more well-known name among the bright lights of the 20th Century in technology. He doesn't have the rabid fan base of Nikola Tesla, and he never made as big a fortune as Howard Stark or Howard Hughes. But Philo Zogolowski had certainly made his mark by 1940. Born in 1880, Zogolowski had gone into business inventing and manufacturing everything from railroad engine parts, telephone switches, navigation equipment and the first pop up toaster. In 1940, he announced that rather than retire as everyone expected, he would spend the remainder of his career using his genius for invention and his personal fortune to found what he called TEAM:ELECTRO. Headquartered in Lebanon, Kansas, the center of the country, he created an office of 12 top investigative reporters, detectives and criminologists to root out crime, corruption and situations where the authorities were overwhelmed. And as their main tool, was ELECTRO, THE WONDER OF THE AGE, it was called. The footage you're seeing now are actual unaltered film of Zoglowski's robot. Made of steel and ceramic, painted red, gold and green and it reminds me of a Roman Centurion combined with the Incredible Hulk.

Over eight feet tall and weighing three quarters of a ton, Electro was a walking talking tank. It's "face" was a TV screen which it's controller could speak through and be seen. Using electa-wave technology, the controller could actually get full sensory input and instantly direct Electro's actions. Strong enough to pull a freight train, or run at 100 miles per hour, or even leap several miles in a jump. Durable as a tank. For several years, Team : Electro fought forest fires, helped evacuate disaster victims, was used in police actions against drug rings, white slavers, Nazi spies and saboteurs. Zoglowski considered all this a test project, planning to have a Team : Electro in every state in the country after the war ended, to help save lives, keep the peace and protect America.

But then he died in 1944, heart attack. After the war, no one could agree WHO should run a national network of Team : Electro, whether it should be the FBI, or the SSR, or each individual state government. So the SSR put the plans on the shelf, the equipment in a warehouse and forgot all about the dream of robotic first responders to disasters, riots and so forth. Once again, a missed opportunity because the key person involved wasn't there to finish it all up.

But on the positive side, Zoglowski kept good notes, left plenty or prototypes behind, and people were able to take much of his work and update it as computer technology improved. As you see from this "family tree" chart here, inventors such as Tony Stark, Bolivar Trask, Victor Von Doom, Hank Pym, Reed Richards, Spencer Smith, Mendel Stromm… They all would have been at a huge disadvantage without the shoulders of Philo Zoglowski to stand upon. I have to wonder what the man could have done if he'd lived just ten or 15 more years.

Anyways, onto my personal favorite, one of my role models, although he was arguably the LEAST successful person I discuss today or in my book. He created one of the greatest achievements in robotics and artificial intelligence ever attempted by a human being, and he did it with copper wire, vacuum tubes and beakers full of crude chemicals. His creation did more to win the Second World War than any individual soldier except possibly Captain Steve Rogers himself. And yet he died almost penniless, an alcoholic in Stamford, Connecticut working as an electrical repairman, murdered by a being that remains unpunished for it. What Vincent Van Gogh was to art, Phineas Thomas Horton was to the science of artificial intelligence. And I can tell from the lack of a reaction none of you remember the poor bastard…

TO BE CONTINUED

Thanks to all the people at Marvel Wikia, Marvel Appendix and writeupsdotorg, I owe you all donations someday.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

MEANWHILE…

In the audience of Terry Vance's lecture, Thursday Rubenstein and Harvey Schlemerman in their most mundane disguises possible were in the back row near the exit door, quietly discussing the lecture and the presenter.

"Did you read the book he's promoting?" Harvey asked. "For 11, he isn't a bad writer. I don't understand the TECHNICAL side very well. But I'm thinking he's already developing a knack for being a minor celebrity. He does local TV sometimes as a "boy genius science reporter," even was on a few game shows for charity. Our little conspiracy could really use someone with a clean record, to be a public face for us."

Thursday nodded, her computerized consciousness following the speech, Harvey's comments, and running several computer simulations as experiments for her own amusement. "I am getting tired of doing most of our public ambassador work, I am sure you are as well. Jerry and Arthur use their unusual appearance unfairly to get out of doing their fair share of THIS sort of thing."

They listened as the young Teaching Assistant went through his PowerPoint presentation, pointing out details of the chemical composition of FLEXO THE RUBBERMAN. "I meant to ask," Harvey whispered. "Vance's book lists YOU as one of the AI designers influenced by that piece of work. Was he right?"

"Some, I suppose. But it's a bit of a stretch. And did you catch how he worked in that bit of anti-mutant and anti-alien tech sentiment in his introduction? What do you suppose prompted THAT?"

"I have read his mind at a distance several times. His birth parents abandoned him as a toddler, left him to die in an empty apartment. They seemed to assume his teaching himself several languages by listening to the neighbors meant he was a Martian disguised as a baby. He was found before he died of thirst, but didn't say a word while he was in State foster care. When he was adopted, he started showing his intelligence again. But then the neighbors started going on a Mutant witch hunt."

"But he's baseline normal human?" Thursday asked.

"According to all the medical records one of our agents gathered. Nothing at all unusual in the DNA. No potential as a gamma ray or cosmic ray mutate either apparently, so radiation would kill him as surely as most humans. I was curious, so I asked some favors from my "friends on the other side," Harvey smiled slightly. "But he doesn't seem to have any unusual interest from anyone in the spirit realms either. Some potential for magic, but not much more than any average human. If I tried to teach him spells, it'd take him years to master even a few basic ones, same as most people. So no shortcuts, he just is a relatively normal human. Except for the eidetic memory and exceptional IQ, of course."

"So as a spokesman, that helps us with the baseline humans, hurts us with the 1 in 10,000 with mutant or mutate potential but that's minor. Any psychological instability? Racism, sexism, enjoys experimenting on animals too much? We can't risk recruiting a junior mad scientist that turns out to be a lot crazier than WE are…" She shivered slightly, thinking of the time she had met Nathaniel Essex to discuss an alliance and barely escaped intact.

Harvey thought for a second, dipping again slightly into the young man's mind, reading surface thoughts and some core traumatic memories. It made Terry Vance stumble over a few words, but otherwise went unnoticed. "He has a love of learning, seems to be interested in almost everything. Minor obsessive need to rescue other people, especially from irrational behavior. That's from his biological parents attempting to kill him… and his adopted younger sister affected him. Her parents were lynched by one of the more racist splinters of the Sons of the Serpent. A hatred for stupid, foolish and short-sighted people… but you feel that same way, so that isn't a problem," Harvey said with a grin. "A LOT of anger over his sister's trauma and loss. It's been generalized. If he WERE to be something greater than most humans, he would devote himself to destroying any one and any THING that even reminded him of those neo-Nazi snake fetishist weirdos. If SHIELD ever talks to him, they'd break their necks to recruit him in their fight against all things HYDRA related."

Thursday nodded, listening as Terry Vance shifted to discussing ELECTRO THE WONDER OF THE AGE. "That gives us leverage. Joining us helps opposed a lot of the various versions of irrationality that plague the world. What other things inside his head can we use? Does he want to be more than human? We can offer him that. Wealth? We can fundraise better than most Fortune 400 corporations. So what does he really WANT?"

On the stage, Terry flipped through several slides of the robot ELECTRO in action. Destroying Nazi tanks in France. Smashing through a wall to end a shootout between heroin smugglers under siege from an FBI tactical team in San Francisco. Assisting firefighters, digging out trapped miners… "For several years, Team : Electro fought forest fires, helped evacuate disaster victims, was used in police actions against drug rings, white slavers, Nazi spies and saboteurs. Zoglowski considered all this a test project, planning to have a Team : Electro in every state in the country after the war ended, to help save lives, keep the peace and protect America."

Harvey nodded towards the screen. "THAT. He wants to do something like that. Help people in big ways, small ways. Whatever he can think of. If he never meets us, and one of the OTHER conspiracies out there somehow miss him, he's likely to pick up where Philo Zog left off. A scientific detective and first response rescuer, using the most high tech devices he can come up with. And if he lives long enough, he would want to explore space and be as close to a Captain Kirk as he can manage. Oh, we could offer him money, he'd use it to find ways to save people. We could offer him Captain America's super soldier formula and he'd give it to his adopted mother to cure her diabetes. If we ASK him to join us, as long as it feels like he can use our resources to make the world a better more rational and healthy place, he'd be more loyal to the cause than any of the four of us already are."

"Hmm. I suppose it's a good thing we've never really KILLED anyone. Even when we had The Defenders helpless, we just brainwashed them to get them to stay out of our way. It'd have been much easier if we HAD killed them, but we didn't."

"Well, we DID put my brain in Nighthawk's body so I could steal his company and his life as a superhero," Harvey admitted. "What a fiasco THAT turned out to be. I still don't know how I got talked into THAT…"

Thursday made a "harrumph" sound. "Oh, nonsense. Jerry planned to put the brain into a blank clone he and Arthur were developing. Poor Nighthawk was going to lose the fortune he inherited from his father and the superpowered body he got from some alien space god or whatever his story was. But we weren't going to KILL him. We are scientists and researchers. Murder is just…. Boring."

On stage, Terry Vance had moved over to the curtain blocking off view from part of the stage, and was clearly planning on unveiling something soon. "Anyways, onto my personal favorite, one of my role models, although he was arguably the LEAST successful person I discuss today or in my book. He created one of the greatest achievements in robotics and artificial intelligence ever attempted by a human being, and he did it with copper wire, vacuum tubes and beakers full of crude chemicals. His creation did more to win the Second World War than any individual soldier except possibly Captain Steve Rogers himself. And yet he died almost penniless, an alcoholic in Stamford, Connecticut working as an electrical repairman, murdered by a being that remains unpunished for it. What Vincent Van Gogh was to art, Phineas Thomas Horton was to the science of artificial intelligence. And I can tell from the lack of a reaction none of you remember the poor bastard…"

He pulled the curtain back, and on the table behind it were several elaborate pieces of equipment, surrounding a three foot high glass tank. Within the tank, unmoving and possibly dead, was a small monkey, floating in a slightly pinkish fluid. Several wires were attached to the small body via straps across the chest and skull, which ran out to the equipment around the tank. The audience gasped and muttered softly.

Terry turned, grinning widely at the audience. "Professor Phineas Horton was a genius in several fields. He created synthetic life, which he called "The Horton Cell." These were synthetic replicas of human cells using plastic and carbon polymers, they duplicate the structures found in organic human cells. These cells can be grown in a culture, and are compatible with humans, and could theoretically create replacements for any organ needed for transplant.

"Even in small clusters, they are capable of generating and storing a remarkable amount of power. Horton kept the exact method of making them a secret, and other than ME only about 5 other people have figured out how he did it as far as I can tell. The first time I managed it, the Petri dish exploded and I was electrocuted," the boy chuckled. "So NO, I won't be revealing how I did it. I won't be the one to blame for anyone ELSE blowing themselves up."

"That little lunatic, what is he doing…" muttered Thursday, her features slightly distorting across her nanotech head. "He recreated Horton cells?"

"I don't understand the significance?" Harvey asked, sitting forward in his seat.

"Horton was a brilliant lunatic," she replied. "His synthetic life was dangerously unstable. It's like… I don't know… building a house out of dry wood and painting it with gasoline and nitroglycerine? Even the first HUMAN TORCH he produced was almost an epic disaster, as has been every OTHER attempt to use that method at artificial intelligence."

"Damn, NOW I wish I'd brought popcorn," Harvey said with a smile. "This should be either amazing or turn out hideously awful. Either way, I don't want to miss a THING."

TO BE CONTINUED

AUTHOR'S STATEMENT

Please comment, I'm always curious what if anything people like.

Thanks again to marvel wikia, marvel appendix and writeupsdotorg for helping me work out chronologies, ancient continuity and so on.

If anyone WANTS faster updates, say so, I space it out just to be lazy. If I knew someone liked it, I could bang out the last 6 chapters in a week.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

TRANSCRIPT FROM PUBLIC LECTURE, GIVEN BY TERRANCE "TERRY" VANCE " 1939-1940 : ROBOTICS AND AI BEGINS" BY TERRY VANCE, T.A. SECOND PART

"Professor Phineas Horton was a genius in several fields. He created synthetic life, which he called "The Horton Cell." These were synthetic replicas of human cells using plastic and carbon polymers, they duplicate the structures found in organic human cells. These cells can be grown in a culture, and are compatible with humans, and could theoretically create replacements for any organ needed for transplant."

"Even in small clusters, they are capable of generating and storing a remarkable amount of power. Horton kept the exact method of making them a secret, and other than ME only about 5 other people have figured out how he did it as far as I can tell. The first time I managed it, the Petri dish exploded and I was electrocuted," the boy chuckled. "So NO, I won't be revealing how I did it. I won't be the one to blame for anyone ELSE blowing themselves up."

"Horton didn't build his android. He GREW it from a clump of Horton cells, that mimicked the growth of a human fetus, and in weeks it grew to physical maturity. Expanding on the work of the Williams brothers and Professor Zoglowski, he programed the android's synthetic brain with basic cognitive skills, language, and reasoning. The general theory has been that he duplicated the mind of a human volunteer, possibly a child. From my reading of Horton's papers, I believe he created an gestalt consciousness, using the brain patterns of multiple subjects, picking and choosing the best, most functional parts of multiple minds."

"Horton revealed the Torch's existence to the public at a press conference in November 1939, at which he demonstrated how the Torch would burst into flame if he introduced a small amount of oxygen into the transparent container in which he was confined. The news media proclaimed the Torch to be a potential menace, and so after a meeting with the Scientists Guild and a presidential order, Horton buried the android in his supposedly airtight tube within cement until such time as he could find a way either to prevent the android from bursting into flame or learn how to control its flame. Horton did solve the issue but was unable to implement it before bad luck intervened."

"There was a slow leak in the tube, however, and eventually enough oxygen entered so that the android's flame ignited explosively, permitting him to escape. Wreaking havoc in innocent exploration of his environment, the android, dubbed the Human Torch, realized the panic he was causing and, unable to control his flaming power, doused his flame in a swimming pool. I believe it was after this that Horton added the stabilizing agent I rediscovered."

"Ma'am, I promise, I will do a question and answer period after the lecture portion. No, I appreciate your concerns. The test subject on stage will NOT explode into flames as soon as I activate it. No, I can't tell you the stabilizing agent that I devised IN DETAIL, that's highly valuable information. That's going to pay for my education for the rest of my life."

"ANYWAY… if I may CONTINUE?"

*sigh* "Yes, the older gentleman next to the attractive woman with the questions? Why did I make a monkey instead of a human? Yes, I'm getting to that…" *muttering, semi-audible "..sus Cr.. things I put up wi…"

"I went with a monkey for simple economics. The process to cultivate Horton cells is expensive unless you can afford to buy in bulk and work on assembly line scale. I went with the tufted capuchin as a model, a species known for intelligence and loyalty to their troop and to their alpha leader. They have been trained to perform household tasks for people with disabilities and are most commonly known as the monkeys used by itinerant "organ grinders" in old movies."

"I used the brain patterns of several monkey and ape species, picking and choosing to form a mind that would be trainable to act as a therapy animal and helper primate, with the added bonus that Horton cell androids don't age. One drawback of using animals such as guide dogs is that they age and have to be replaced. One of my helper monkeys could be passed down for generations."

"Now as I drain the tank…. Like so… and detach the neural input linkages… thusly, the little fellow I've nicknamed "Darwin" will start to stir. And you will notice that he isn't exploding into flame. Score one for Team Vance… OK, come out now, let me give you a hand"

(The monkey, approximately 12 inches tall with a tail long as its body, takes Vance's hand, and swings itself onto Vance's shoulder, shaking liquid off of it's fur. It quickly scans the auditorium, and waves "hello" to the audience.

"Now using neural linkages, I programmed Darwin with the brain patterns of several apes. A circus chimp that had been trained extensively in acrobatics. A capuchin that had been a helper monkey for a quadriplegic for six years. From a world famous gorilla, I copied several decades of sign language experience. I believe that I copied all of the strong points of each test subject without copying any of the drawbacks."

(Darwin signs "Who has a cookie?") "I have one, if you do two tricks or the people." (Darwin sticks out his tongue and blows a raspberry.)

"Darwin, hop down. Now do your Tai Chi." (Darwin goes through a complex series of motions, resembling a martial artist in slow motion.) "OK, I admit, I copied that part from MY brain, I wanted to be able to show off. YES, THE WOMAN IN THE BACK AGAIN? WHAT IS IT?"

(Audio unclear.)

"Yes, I mixed the mental patterns of eight different primates, actually as well as some physical skills from my own mind, and as a favor to my little sister, I duplicated her ability at things such as jump rope and double dutch. No, I don't think that would be a problem, obviously, or I wouldn't have DONE it." (Vance takes a cookie from his shirt pocket, breaks it in half and gives Darwin half which he gobbles down.)

"Using the royalties from my new book , 1939-1940 : ROBOTICS AND AI BEGINS, I hope to raise enough funds to start production on Darwin units, to assist the disabled and the aged, without any of the time required to train live animals, or any of the frailties of living creatures."

(Darwin is seemingly distracted by a flying insect, swats at it with both hands, and then inhales sharply, and exhales a seven to eight foot long jet of bluish flame. Vance apparently does not notice this, and a male in the back row begins laughing.)

"I think the safety and economy of the Darwin series of androids… All right, what's so funny?" (Darwin is apparently still chasing the flying insect, leaps upon the equipment strewn table , looks at one of the larger pieces of electrical equipment, and exhales a huge jet of flame. The table catches fire, while the monkey appears to be watching something small fly off to the side.)

"What the…! OH FOR… DARWIN! BAD MONKEY! BAD MONKEY! Now STOP BREATHING FIRE FOR DADDY… Um… lecture over, go away quickly, BUY MY BOOK, BYE!" (Terry Vance runs after the tiny ape as the auditorium sprinklers go off, extinguishing the fire on stage and dousing the audience. The laughter in the back becomes more raucous, as Vance's shouting fades, as does the occasional monkey shriek and roar of flames.)

END OF TRANSCRIPT.

"OH GODS, THAT WAS HILARIOUS," Harvey shouted over the sound of the fire alarms that had just begun to sound. "This kid is perfect for our little club. The way his luck is going today, he might have himself an "origin story" any minute now."

Thursday pulled the older man by his elbow out of the side exit and outside of the building. "He's bright enough. And lunatic enough to combine several kinds of madness into the same experiment. We need to recruit him before someone ELSE does, that's for sure."

Thursday's artificial hearing was still tracking the sounds of boy scientist/android fire breathing monkey as they chased each other spreading chaos in their wake across the campus grounds of Empire State University. "So should we help him, follow him to see if he can handle it, or get the hell out of here and recruit him later if he survives?"

Harvey shook the sprinkler water out of his beard. "Follow him, help him if he needs it, and go from there. Something tells me he's going to get expelled for at LEAST a semester before this day is over. All that Jerry will have to do then is offer him a scholarship to go to another college or maybe an internship with one of our dummy companies."

A muffled explosion from what Thursday Rubenstein could only assume was a burning car came from the other side of the building, and the boyish cursing of a young mad scientist having his first experiment go horribly wrong. "And to think," she said. "At the University, they called him mad…"


	8. Siege by Stealth and Storm!

**"Siege by Stealth and Storm!" (Takes place during AVENGERS #159)**

Terry Vance stood with his adopted father James Vance on the front yard of their Queens, New York home. His mother and his sister were taking turns looking into the sky over Manhattan with Terry's telescope. The neighbors were in their yards, looking in the same direction, staring at the unique sight of a three mile chunk of rock floating a quarter mile above Manhattan Island.

James Vance held a portable radio, playing the all-news radio station, 1010 WINS, just loud enough to be heard and turned up if there was an update.

"Look, Ma, we have that Grava-guy line up now!" Rowina Vance leaned down and peered at the figure flying above the United Nations building, posing in the insanely dramatic and self-important way that supervillains all seemed able to do.

"Are you sure we shouldn't be evacuating Terry?" James looked sideways at his 11-year-old son. "The radio says they are trying to evacuate Manhattan, in case that fool crushes the city. The Avengers went up there about 20 minutes ago, it doesn't look like they were able to do anything."

Terry tilted his head to the side, appearing deep in thought. "The roads are going to be blocked with everyone already trying to escape. We are far enough away that IF that floating rock drops, we shouldn't get much more than a huge dust cloud and a bit of an earthquake. We'd all be taking a bigger risk taking a chance with the mobs on the roads away from the city. Plus, the Avengers still have an ace up their sleeve. Thor hasn't shown up yet. He doesn't lose. Ever."

James nodded. "That's true. But THIS may be the first time. So are you ready to talk about what happened yesterday," referring to what the Daily Bugle had called MAD MONKEY FIRE FOUL-UP!

"Not really, dad, but I guess we should. I just can't believe they suspended me for two semesters. It's better than being banned for life… but I don't like it."

The radio replayed Dr. Franklin Hall's speech to the United Nations for the third time. "... unless the governments of Earth submit to my will, I shall destroy a major metropolis every hour, ON the hour! New York shall feel my wrath! Next… NEWARK, DELAWARE! I, GRAVITON have spoken!"

James Vance put a hand on his son's shoulder. "They had to crack down on you, don't take it personally. It wasn't long ago that their vice-chancellor turned out to be a super-villain. What did Professor Lansky call himself, Lightbulb?"

"Lightmaster. I liked Lansky too, I was as surprised as anybody when he went nuts. I'd hoped the university would let me take over his research project into force fields and "hard light." Now I can't even use the library archives anymore for a whole year."

The announcer over the radio was shouting now. "... the President has issued a statement that the United States does not negotiate with terrorists, but what about us, New York? Do we negotiate, do we run and hide? Do we FIGHT?! We have a whole CITY full of super-folks, someone must be able to save our town! Where is Spider-man, or Daredevil, where is that new kid Nova? Maybe The Punisher can get in a lucky shot, come ON Frank, you're a New Yorker, help us out!"

"So what do you want to do, son?" James asked quietly. "You could take a year off, come work with me at the shop. I know that the machines we design and build are a step down from making synthezoids and tinkering with physics. But I'd be glad to have you there more often." Vance Engineering had been in the business of making the machines that manufacturers needed for a decade, and Terry had been helping design and build industrial equipment since he developed as a young prodigy.

"Maybe. I have some ideas that we could go with. But I was really starting to feel like I was on the start of something big. Without all the University's resources, I won't be able to do nearly as much."

"So work with a company?" James turned his head to watch Darwin, the "MAD MONKEY" that caused all the trouble, playing on the lawn. "Your book is about to get published, and THAT thing is a brilliant idea. Figure out the whole "Horton cells equals robot flamethrower" problem, and you've cracked the way for anyone who can afford a car could have a home robot instead."

"Maybe," Terry admitted. "Disney seemed interested in getting involved until the "fire-breathing" issue came up. Right AFTER we made headlines, Hammer Industries sent a guy to talk to me, but they want to use my monkey helpers for military contracts."

"You told him to go ##### himself?" James asked.

"Of course."

"Good boy, proud of you," James said with a grin. "Maybe we can get Disney to take another look."

Thunder clapped, once, again, a third time. The clear blue sky became dark with storm clouds.

"THOR IS HERE!" Melanie squealed with joy. "I wish we had binoculars…" she growled at her big brother. "I wanna see him beat up that Grava-guy!"

"My telescope will have to do for now. I promise to get you a better look at super-fights soon," Terry said with a smile. "Let's just see where this goes as best we can from here."


	9. Chapter 9

"DUEL!" takes place during Daredevil #146

"... The countdown has begun! I will only wait so long… for a COWARD! The Man Without Fear! Bah! Where is this hero? I have offered him a challenge - a duel to the death to prove my total superiority! By now he must be aware of the price of his cowardice…"

Bullseye, the most wanted criminal in New York City, continued to rant into the camera of a local UHF station that had been broadcasting BOWLING FOR DOLLARS from a Brooklyn alley. He had burst into the live broadcast of a regional championship, throwing improbable objects at contestants, announcers and cameramen alike, demanding that Daredevil come down and "face his doom," or whatever.

"Who actually TALKS like that?" Terry Vance asked, sitting in the lobby of a Manhattan office building, watching the large screen television, drumming his fingers nervously. He had a backpack with him on his lap, clutching it nervously. On the wall behind him in large golden letters was VAN LUNT TRADING COMPANY, Terry and his father were waiting for an early morning appointment requested by the CEO and founder, Cornelius Van Lunt himself.

Terry had read up on Van Lunt, a one-time financial tycoon who had recently been released from Federal prison. What had been proven in court was that after decades of ruthless, cut-throat and occasionally illegal business dealings, building up a minor investment house into one of the five most successful investment houses, Van Lunt had decided to turn to "superhuman crime." Working with a group known as the Zodiac Cartel, under the name "Taurus," Cornelius had dressed in a bull costume and made terroristic threats to use a mix of super-science and mysticism to "instantly murder everyone born under the zodiac sign of Gemini in the New York City region." The Avengers had swiftly put an end to the Zodiac Cartel, and captured Cornelius Van Lunt red handed and in costume. Everyone on Wall Street assumed that Van Lunt, one of the 20 richest men in the country, must have lost his mind to be involved in such a cartoonish scheme. The Zodiac Cartel hadn't even explained how they expected to profit from killing a twelfth of the city.

Van Lunt's lawyers wound up pleading temporary insanity in the case. No proof existed that Van Lunt had been involved in the Zodiac Cartel's activities more than a few weeks before the "Gemini debacle" as the papers called it. Scientists testified that astrology was bunk, that there was no possible way to magically "wish people to die" based on their birthday. In the end, Cornelius had been convicted of making terroristic but empty threats, some destruction of property, creating a nuisance, and conspiracy to commit a bad practical joke.

In an interview with The Daily Bugle financial section after the trial, Van Lunt explained his actions as resulting from envy of the fame and notoriety that costumed criminals had, mixed with the effects of alcoholism ruining his judgement. Several years of jail time had caused his business partners and investors and creditors to divide up his assets, until all the former "Bull of American Business" had nothing left but his name and a ruined reputation.

He had been released shortly prior to the incident that had earned Terry Vance a one year suspension from Empire State University, and he had contacted Terry just after the city-wide cleanup from the "Graviton incident." Terry's parents hadn't been thrilled with the idea, but Terry had insisted on going. He had idolized Sherlock Holmes since he had read A STUDY IN SCARLET at four years old, and the chance to meet an ACTUAL criminal mastermind was too good to pass up. He did promise not to sign anything, make any promises, or run off to join a criminal conspiracy.

The young woman at the reception desk received a phone call, and indicated to Terry to follow her back into the main offices. He did, scanning the office suites he passed through. Offices were empty, interior windows showed signs of dust. The carpet and furnishings were showing their wear. The offices of the latest version of the Van Lunt Trading Company were based in one of the three office buildings Van Lunt still owned as a landlord, but there clearly wasn't much of a budget for staff or upkeep.

They entered a large, very well decorated office, behind a rather beautiful antique desk sat Cornelius Van Lunt, looking older and somehow smaller than he had looked in the news photos Terry had found from before the old man's arrest. He stood, and came around the desk, a hand out in a sincere seeming greeting.

"Professor Vance, I appreciate your coming on short notice. I bribed an editor at your publisher so I could read your book before it was released, and I HAD to meet you." Van Lunt stood well over six foot, with a massive well muscled build that was suited to a heavyweight boxer. Balding, with long hair at the back, and a very distinctive handlebar mustache. He was nearly seventy, and he looked older than that around the eyes. Terry noticed his suit was a bit out of fashion, the tie a bit wider and louder than would blend in with a younger crowd.

"He certainly looks the part of an old school criminal," Terry thought as he shook the man's hand, noticing the firm, solid handshake. But calling him "professor" was a nice touch, flattery always helps.

Terry sat down without being invited to, deciding to play the part of "peer" instead of "subordinate" to the older man. "I am glad to make your acquaintance. I was surprised to hear from you, as I understood your interests ran more to real estate and high finance. My work is more technical, although I have a lot of hobbies outside of robotics and chemistry. Where do our interests intersect?"

Van Lunt sat, opened a drawer, pulling out a cigar and lighting it. "In business, it pays to be diverse. I have to adapt and change, or I'll be left behind. Years ago, owning land and brokering deals to acquire companies was the key to a fortune. Now, ideas and innovations are what builds fortunes. Besides, with my criminal history, I am barred from going back into some sorts of high finance, and my reputation is still damaged. But if I can find someone with big ideas and buy INTO them, I can own a bit of whatever the future holds."

The old man inhaled deeply, enjoying the tobacco. "I'm impressed with some of the ideas you worked into your history of robotics. For instance, you detailed a dozen or more opportunities that the Williams brothers had to revolutionize the economy with their "Flexo" robot that they completely missed. Only THREE of them were obvious to me in hindsight. And you detailed all the advances in organ transplants and artificial limbs that Phineas Horton could have given the world instead of giving us ONE Human Torch. Reading between the lines, I can tell that you are very good at taking someone else's ideas and finding a good use for them."

"So you DON'T want my help building a robot army to conquer the world?" Terry felt annoyed at the smoke, and decided to be blunt. "One of my mentors at the university gets contacted by recruiters from Latveria every ear, asking her to come build kill-bots for Dr. Doom. I'm almost disappointed that no one wants ME to design their war machines."

Van Lunt picked up a remote control, pressed a button, and cleverly concealed ventilation fans cleared the air of cigar smoke. "I apologize, I should have turned those on before lighting up. No, I don't want to put you to work making a robot army, Professor. I've done quite enough time in jail already. I had plenty of time to think, and I had a rather good psychiatrist to discuss things with. But you are right, sooner or later someone will probably try to get you to go down that particular road. I had HYDRA and the Maggia try to recruit me in jail, and I've had several offers since I got out. But I am going to stay on the straight and narrow, and I suggest you do the same. Do you want to know WHY I am going to be a legitimate businessman from now on?"

"I am curious," Terry admitted.

The old man stood up and walked to the window, looking into the sky. "Dr. Ludgate pointed out that the reason everyone does anything other than take care of staying alive is to find a way to feel important. All anyone NEEDS is a full belly and a warm place to sleep. Everything else is just a way to feel loved, or feared, or noticed or to feel like someone else cares about you. I was rich, and powerful and had thousands of employees and hundreds of millions of dollars to play with. But it wasn't enough. I had to be BIGGER and MORE important, and have more people know who I was and think to themselves, that Cornelius Van Lunt, DAMN is he an INCREDIBLE, SMART, TOUGH guy! He should be KING OF THE WORLD."

"So I went a little bit nuts. I put on a bull costume, and tried to scare the world, to make myself feel more important. I wanted the whole world to think about me and be TERRIFIED of me. I was thinking that would make me feel like a god, if I was enough of a monster."

"I was an idiot. People are only scared of a monster until the NEXT monster comes along. Heroes don't really matter either, really. They get forgotten just as fast as monsters. That's no way to feel important, not for long. And humans NEEDS to feel like they matter. When Dr. Ludgate helped me realize that, it all made sense."

Terry had never really thought about these things, and was more interested than he had expected. "So what is the solution? If it isn't to be a monster or a hero?"

"BUILD something. Something so big it will never be knocked down in a hundred lifetimes," Van Lunt said, turning around, pointing at Terry. "I tried to build a big pile of CASH and no one remembered because it was just cash. I tried to scare the world, and someone scarier did it better a month later so no one remembered me. But if I'd really BUILT something! Like FORD or Howard Hughes, or RAY KROC… Do you see what I'm getting at?"

"I think so…" Terry Vance nodded, thinking of Newton, Tesla, Norman Borlaug. "Being a hero or a monster doesn't last. So do something that lasts." He thought of Sherlock Holmes, and how in the stories, Holmes considered his discoveries in "how to solve mysteries" was more important than the actual mysteries he solved.

"Good, I'm glad you get it. Now remember it, because sooner or later it will be important. So do you want to hear my offer, young man?"

Terry nodded, deep in thought.

"I used some money and some connections, and I have access to records from over a dozen of the top super-scientists the world has to offer. Raw data of their research. Blueprints of their best inventions, secret formulas, theoretical physics and things I don't even know the proper words for. Not just a few things, it amounts to millions of pages if it was printed out. This is technology that could change humanity in a billion ways, and it is being used by selfish idiots to make themselves feel important instead of DOING THINGS, do you understand?

"If you can find ways to turn these doomsday machines and robotic fighting suits and so on into something USEFUL, and I can find a way to SELL them to people, we get to matter. We get to be the most important people in the world. Better than any hero, any monster. Turn their private toys into tools the world can use.

Terry liked the idea, but…. "That could take years… decades…"

"That's why I wanted to find someone young as possible, who can take time to work all this out. Fortunately I have someone ELSE working on drugs to help me live for a few more decades," the old man said with a grin. "I have business partners who also understand what Dr. Ludgate taught me."

"Who are your partners?" Terry asked, pondering the idea of looking at Doctor Doom's raw data, Arnim Zola's lab notes, Anton Vanko's blueprints…

"All in good time," Cornelius "Taurus" Van Lunt said with a smile.

Miles away, watching all of this over a security monitor, Doctors Morgan and Nagan raised a champagne toast.

"Van Lunt is certainly earning your anti-aging drug, Jerry."

"And you were right, all that research we pilfered was the perfect recruiting tool. I can hardly wait to meet our new member, Arthur."


End file.
